Page 60 of Kept in the Dark

Well, that’s not going to be fun for either of them. We’ve had a cold front sweep in, and nights have been near freezing lately.

I move towards the handle of the French door, ready to step in, but Wes stills me, thumping the back of the hand still holding the bag of chips against my sternum. “I wouldn’t get in the middle of that if I were you.”

“Middle of what? He clearly needs a hand in subduing her.”

He resumes his casual posture with a one-shoulder shrug. “I don’t know that I’d insert myself into that particular lover’s spat.”

“Lover’s spat?” I repeat, grinning. “Fuck off. You think they’re…” I trail off, slapping my hands together in a suggestive but meaningless gesture.

He chuckles. “I think that’s Dimitri’s woman.”

“No way,” I scoff. “She’s running away from him. At most, she’s his captive—his obviously unwilling captive. A kidnapped witness.”

He shrugs again, but I can see he really believes his statement. And Wes is usually such a stickler for not making assumptions. This guy doesn’t speak until his little calculator-brain has done its math about the odds and he’s sure he’s right. But Wes onlyactslike he knows everything. Half the time, I think he’s full of shit, just saying things with enough confidence to convince people he knows for a fact what he’s only making an educated guess about.

“Mark my words.”

I reach in to steal more chips and roll my eyes. “In the almost three years we’ve known him, have you ever heard him talk about women? Have you ever seen him with anyone? All he does is work, work out, and sulk. I did kind of think he liked her at the wedding, but we both know she was a cover.” I take a thoughtful munch. “My theory is that there was some kind of accident and he took one of those knives to the ‘nads.”

Wes holds out his hand, palm up. “A fiver says he makes some kind of claim on her today. Marks his territory, as it were.”

I glance out towards the pool. They’re both standing, heads cresting through the rip in the pool cover and up to their waists in gross, old water. She’s shivering as she angrily sends a splash his way that hits him right in the face. Her scream this time is not one of terror, but of outrage.

“All right. You’re on.” I laugh and grab his hand to shake. “What makes you so sure, anyway?”

“Didn’t you see his face?”

I look back. They’re getting out now, and he’s half-carrying, half-dragging her towards the stairs. “Yeah. Same mean mug as usual. What of it?”

Wes shakes his head, clearly feeling pretty certain about this. “It was the same look you had when you brought Eleanor here after you’d been stalking her and trying to keep it from us for weeks.”

“Oh?” I grin. Fond memories. “And what look was that?”

“Like she was yours and no one better say otherwise. Like you had something to protect.”

“You’re sayin’ that has a look? Fuck off.” I laugh incredulously.

“It does,” he nods. “It’s like the caveman, animal brain sayingmine.”

My brows shoot up. Okay… maybe he does know more than I give him credit for. Because I’ve never said that thought out loud to him, but I sure as shit have to Eleanor. And I don’t remember exactly what I was thinking that night I brought her home the first time, but it’s safe to say that was part of it. I remember giving the guys an ultimatum, threatening to leave if they decided to throw her out.

“Besides,” he continues, “he brought herhere.”

“Yeah,” I grin, taking the last bite of my apple and moving it into a cheek to speak around it, “And after the shit he gave me about Eleanor, I can’t wait to bust his balls about this.”

“Exactly. You know how Dimitri feels about us doing the job right. And he can’t stand eating crow. If he didn’t care about her, he never would have brought her here and put our safety at risk. He’d have taken her to the warehouse or the farm or the meat freezer and locked her away for all our sakes.”

Well, damn. Wes might actually be right. As per fuckin’ usual. I narrow my eyes at him. “Did you just hustle me, Short Round? You know something I don’t?”

Wes laughs, balls up the now-empty bag of chips, and tosses it in the trash as he heads through the kitchen towards his office. “I know so many things you don’t, it’s honestly embarrassing for you, pretty boy.”

“Eat me,” I retort to his retreating form.

“I got some new tech in if you want to check it out,” he calls, nearly all the way back to his office by now.

“Be right in.”

I glance out the window again, see that D’s ushering her towards the pool house where he set up shop. If I am wrong about the two of them, I’m gonna be pissed. Five bucks is whatever, but a smug Wesley is pretty fucking insufferable, even if he never actually says, “I told you so.”